02/04/2026
https://www.facebook.com/share/p/194FS3as8R/
Some thoughts on Peter Consterdine which we have sent out today via the associations. Pictures from Brian Seabright
There are so many memories and tributes pouring in … we wanted to share some from Brian Seabright, from Iain Abernethy, and from Geoff Thompson. These stories show how Peter remains with everyone who was lucky enough to know him.
Brian Seabright:
I first got to know Peter in 1978; he refereed my first full contact fight. From that day he became a friend, teacher … and eventually training partner.
Pete was a force of nature, always pushing boundaries. He had this presence and ethos that made you want to train harder, become better, he was always striving for excellence and encouraged you to do the same.
Peter was a very intelligent man, he had an encyclopaedic knowledge of karate and martial arts and was wonderful company, he was funny, interesting and was a great raconteur, whether it was stories about the Beckhams (he provided the security for them for a time) or his trips to Russia, the Middle East, Japan or one of the many others places he travelled. Name a country and he would have a story or amazing fact about it. I think it’s fair to say that Peter lived a wonderful life.
Meeting his wife Dawn was the final piece of the jigsaw for him, they became a perfect couple.
It was a pleasure to know Peter, great to train with him and an absolute honour to call him a friend.
People like Peter are rare, if you find one, befriend them and hope they like you.
‘Red rag to a bull’
It was the early 1980’s and, as was usual on a Saturday, Peter would be spending time at Oriental World. It was the place to be, meeting and chatting to all sorts of martial artists. On this day Pete was talking to a Wing Chun man and, at some point, he suggested that he and Peter should compare techniques. Peter had been learning wing chun with Danny and Yip Chun so he knew the system and loved it but also knew it had weaknesses. It was decided to demonstrate strikes on each other. Peter picked up a white pad, (used in Shukokai for punching) placed it on his chest and the wing chun guy hit with a few fast punches. “Okay, my turn”, said Pete. But then the Wing chunner did something inexplicable, he picked up a copy of yellow pages and placed it on his chest with the white pad on top. We all looked at each other and smiled because he’d basically placed a lump of wood on his chest. “You sure about this” said Peter. Yep!
Well, a double hip twist and a gyaku zuki later there was a deep guttural yep and he went flying feet in the air backwards. We all cracked up, of course. We made sure the guy was okay. He left with a bruised ego and a bruised sternum.
End of story and lesson learned 😂👊
Iain Abernethy:
I can’t recall the exact date I first met Peter, but it was sometime in the late 1990s. He was helping me get my first book published and, once that was discussed, the topic of conversation moved over to the double hip. He asked me if I had felt it directly and I said that I would like to … ignorance is bliss and all that! One big BOOM later … I was sold! There is a whole new level of ‘hard’ above what the majority think of as ‘hard’. Peter kindly made me aware of these ‘promised lands’ by using his fist, via some Ethafoam, to introduce my sternum to my spine. It wasn’t that long after that that I started traveling to train with Peter on a weekly basis.
On one of those early sessions, I remember holding the focus mitts for Peter as he threw potentially face-crushing jab after potentially face-crushing jab. Every one of them precise, explosive and next-level powerful. At the end of the that drill, Peter looked at me and asked, “What were they like?” All I could say was, “awesome” and he seemed disappointed with that. Peter was obviously the senior guy, but he was looking for any possible observations I may have. That’s one of the many things I loved about how Peter trained. He was extremely skilled, but he was always wanting to find ways to be better. No ego. No resting on his laurels. No “that’s good enough”. He was always seeking to be better. Indeed, he once told me that he felt as soon as martial artists think they are “good enough” that’s when it’s over.
Shortly before Peter’s diagnosis, we taught a couple of seminars together in Germany. As it turns out, he had cancer then, but was not aware of it yet. He was on top form as always. Great teaching, in a funny and structured way. His physical demonstrations leaving those new to the “Peter Experience” slack-jawed. It’s also always fun to watch others discover the lands of “harder than hard” at the end of Peter’s instructional fists. Peter loved both events. At the end of his final session on the second one, he was taking his gloves off (you know, the really worn ones that have seemingly decided to disobey the laws of physics and somehow remain largely whole) and he once again asked me what the combination he had been demonstrating felt like. All I could say was, “There was a lot of weight in those shots Peter”. He replied, “Thanks … yeah … I really enjoyed those”. That was the last time I held for him, and it was good to know, that one that occasion at least, my holding was up to par. We had lots of time to talk over those weekends and it was good to see Peter enjoying himself and helping others do the same.
Whether you knew Peter for decades or met him once, all would agree he made an impact (literally and figuratively) on everyone he met. He had time for everyone. He also had an unparalleled sense of humour and was an amazing storyteller. We all have many tales to tell about Peter. If there was space, I would tell you about the email from him I have printed off and placed in the frame behind my 6th dan certificate, the lengths he went to make my young daughters laugh around their “black belts in cartwheeling”, the time we ended up training in a building that was potentially on fire, the perfect bit of mickey-taking he did the last time we spoke, and the time he revealed his most-motivational song (and why it will surprise you!) and on and on…The bottom line is, we all have many such stories, and we will be sharing them when we meet up for countless years to come. I’ll miss Peter’s calls and his wise counsel. I will miss the jokes and the laughter. However, I look forward to telling you my stories and hearing yours when we meet up. The fact we all have so many tales to tell is the result of a life well-lived.
Geoff Thompson:
I could tell you that my lasting memory of Peter is how he changed my life: be in no doubt, he really did change my life.
I could tell you that my enduring memory is of first meeting Peter on a service station carpark (M1 North), where he demonstrated his infamous reverse punch on me and I felt as though I’d been hit by a bus: it was less double-hip and more double-decker.
I could also tell you that his mentoring has coated me like a generous blessing, poured directly from the Holy Grail. His anointment gave me a new heart and welcomed me into the pantheon of the great and the good of British Martial arts.
I could also tell you that his sheer presence alone expanded me shockingly and exponentially: I know one thing, after I crossed the event horizon of Peter’s tornado, I was not in Kansas anymore.
And it would be no exaggeration to say that when I met Peter, “ages and ages hence”, many paths diverged before me. He guided me gently along the one least travelled by, knocking smooth my sharp edges, coarse and harsh, as way led on to way – I am saved because of it.
I could tell you all of these things and all of these things are true but my great and abiding memory, the one that never leaves me, and that never shall, is how we laughed, man, how we laughed me and my friend, every time we met, every time we spoke on the telephone, in and amid the power punches, the double-hips, the abundant production and opposition and public criticism, the unrelenting challenge, and the hard hard knocks of life, me and Peter, we laughed through it all.
I have loved him very much, I love him all the more now.
His body has fallen, yes, but his legend has broken free of its bounds, it has been given wings and he makes “great sky circles of his freedom”.
And I, a uke without his seme, I have to be very careful not to fall, fall, fall into the massive black hole in my life, left by Peter’s collapsing star.
Geoff Thompson
RIP Peter Consterdine
We are grateful for all these words and the thought which Brian, Iain and Geoff have put into sharing their memories. We hope you find them as powerful as we have done as we remember Peter and the immense impact he has had on us all.
